


High Intensity Home Cardio Workout

by Cristinuke



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, BDSM, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual Sex, Dom!Steve, Dom/sub, Dry Orgasm, Electricity, Forced Orgasm, Fucking, Fucking Machines, Gags, Inappropriate use of exercise equipment, M/M, Milking Machine, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Predicament Bondage, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Spreader Bars, sub!clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cristinuke/pseuds/Cristinuke
Summary: Steve loves to watch Clint workout. More than that, Steve loves tomakeClint workout.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Steve Rogers
Comments: 45
Kudos: 301
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	1. Endurance Training

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/gifts).



> This is one of my auctions from the Marvel Trump Hate Challenge of 2019! It was so much fun to help out some charities with writing. One of my winners was flowerparrish, and gave me an awesome prompt with liberty to play around with it.
> 
> Beta'd by the ever-incredible and amazing [Kuja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuja/profile).

“How’re you holding up, sweetheart?” Steve asked innocently.

Clint moaned brokenly around his gag, and struggled once again against the arm binder behind his back. Clint’s muscles bunched together, his shoulders straining uselessly against an unbreakable hold. A little green bell remained in his clenched fist— he didn’t look like he had any plans to let it go any time soon, despite the picture he painted.

His chest was heaving and his thighs shone with sweat as he continued to pedal— he was hooked upright to a stationary bike that drove a fat dildo into his ass with each rotation of the cycle. If Clint stopped to rest, he risked triggering the electrodes attached to his pecs, stomach, thighs, and balls— he had found this out the hard way on multiple occasions. It was his choice whether or not to suffer the unforgiving dildo’s fucking or get stimulated with electricity, and right now Clint was avoiding the latter with single-minded determination. It was a wonderful predicament that had Clint moaning and crying, trying to decide what he wanted to experience next.

Steve loved that the future allowed these sort of contraptions, and that he actually had enough money to put it all together.

Clint appreciated it too, but in his own way. He moaned again, sharper this time as his pace faltered and he was punished with a short wave of electricity until he got back into a regular rhythm. His cock was only half-hard— a side-effect of needing most of his blood somewhere else, but a testament to how much Clint was enjoying himself. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, did you know that?” Steve told him. It was true: Clint was in peak physical condition, and this little exercise was perfect to show his body off. He couldn’t remain still, not with a dildo ploughing into him, not while he pedaled, and definitely not when the electrodes switched on.

Steve especially liked those times because it made the surrounding muscles twitch and jerk helplessly, all completely out of Clint’s control.

Clint whimpered, still pedaling. His gaze was locked on Steve, eyes silently begging.

“You’ve got a couple more laps to go, and then we can cool you down.” Steve told him, glancing at the pedometer; he wasn’t really making Clint cycle a specific distance, but he had noticed that Clint started to reach his limit after around four miles of getting fucked. Honestly, Steve was impressed. They went through so much lube when they used this machine, and the squelching noises were music to Steve’s ears.

The fact that they were nearly at the halfway mark of the third mile meant that Clint was going to need to stop soon anyway, so worked out nicely.

Clint’s legs began to shake more as he continued to pedal— both from overexertion, and from the shocks to his thighs. Steve watched as Clint’s pace started to falter and the toll of the intense exercise began to visibly weigh on him. The electrodes fired more and more as he gradually slowed down.

“Just a little more, Clint, you got this.” Steve encouraged, watching carefully. The more he lost the rhythm, the harder it was to get back into it, and Steve wanted to push him a little bit longer.

Clint could only whimper again as his body twitched violently from the electricity. He was breathing hard around and through his gag; it was one of those hollow ball-gags with convenient air holes so Clint didn’t have to work so hard to breathe.

It did, however, make his muffled cries sound amazing.

“You’re almost there, Clint, come on. Push through it; I know you can do it. You’re so close.” Steve kept up his litany, urging Clint on. He kept it up until Clint pulled himself out of a final off-rhythm and stopped spasming from the electrodes. At that point, Steve shut off the TENS unit and praised Clint.

“There you go, you’re good, you did it. I’m so proud of you— look how far you went!” Steve pointed to the pedometer, and smiled when Clint barely glanced at it, still pedaling.

“Easy. Slow down now, it’s okay.” Steve coaxed him, “I turned it off, so you can relax now.” Clint shuddered, trusting Steve as his legs began to slow down. Steve settled his hands on top of Clint’s thighs, gently encouraging him to relax with gentle pressure. It took a little while to get Clint’s body under control from the high Steve had forced him into, but eventually he was able to slow enough to stop.

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Steve pushed in close and let Clint lean against him for support. Clint whined sharply when he realized that their new positions made it very obvious that he had stopped with the dildo still buried deep in his ass.

Steve was fine with letting him settle into the new angle, not particularly in any hurry to correct it for him.

He did however, loosen the buckle behind Clint’s head and let him spit out the gag.

Steve ordered, “Breathe for me. In, two, three. Out, two, three. Again.” He counted for Clint until his breaths began to come out deeper and more measured.

“How are you doing?” Steve asked when Clint had calmed down some. He was still shaking all over, no matter how tightly Steve pulled him against his body, and sweat ran in fresh trails along his skin.

“Awesome, ‘m great.” Clint’s first words were slow and slurred. His voice was rough and dry, so Steve swiped up the water bottle he had set aside earlier.

Balancing both Clint and the water bottle carefully, he told Clint, “Drink.”

Steve carefully tipped the water into Clint’s mouth and watched as Clint gulped it all down. Some of it spilled out of the corners of his mouth onto his already-drenched throat and chest.

“Slowly, there you go.” Steve had to pull back a couple of times to make sure that Clint coughed out the water he’d chugged too quickly. He was insatiable though, and kept trying to drink more, whining when Steve made him wait. “Let it settle first.”

They got through the rest of the water bottle like that until Clint finally turned his head away, shaking it slightly.

“Good job. You’re doing great. You want another minute?”

Clint shivered, still vibrating with adrenaline and pent-up energy, but he finally gave a shaky nod. Steve was surprised because he knew how unforgiving the dildo could be, and it was still shoved up Clint’s ass. But he let him rest and settle into some semblance of a cool down.

Steve didn’t want him to stay there too long though, and after a short time, he told Clint, “Okay, let’s get you off. Just lean on me, there you go.” Steve’s grip on Clint was tight, silently promising that he held him safely.

Helping Clint get off the bike was simultaneously one of the hottest things Steve had ever seen— Clint’s thighs were trembling uncontrollably as he repeatedly tried and failed to find his balance— and one of the sweetest— Clint’s trust in Steve was unshakeable as he leaned against him and mumbled half-apologies for the need, as if Steve hadn’t tied his hands or been responsible for his situation in the first place.

It almost made Steve feel bad for what he had planned next.

Almost.

“You ready for the next round?” Steve asked rhetorically as he held Clint close. He’d already started to unbuckle the arm binder and was letting the straps fall down. Clint hissed in response to his arms being freed, but Steve just rubbed the muscles, massaging the sore limbs until he knew the worst of the pins and needles had faded.

When he was mostly in control of his arms again, Clint brought his left hand around and pressed something against Steve’s chest. When Steve brought a hand up to take it, he saw it was the little green bell.

Clint had a grin on his face and a wicked look in his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re ready. C’mon.”

Steve stepped back, letting Clint stand on his own to try and follow him. He only lasted a few moments of careful hobbling before Steve just picked him up, throwing Clint over his shoulder and carrying him to the bed.

Clint groaned as he was manhandled, his newly freed hands doing nothing but dangling limply over Steve’s back, only to try and lightly grip the hem of Steve’s shirt for some semblance of stability.

“Fuck, you’re strong.”

His voice was scratchy but his tone was colored with awe even now, and that just made Steve smile. Clint could still be sappy even after they had been together so long, and Steve loved it.

“I should hope so, if I’m having to lug you around everywhere.” He felt Clint huff out a laugh that finished as a moan when Steve playfully gave him a slap on the ass.

It wasn’t the only thing Steve felt against him— Due to their positions, Clint’s cock was pressed against his chest, and Steve was not surprised to feel it even harder than before. Carrying Clint around always did it for him, which was another reason why Steve loved it.

As he walked through the hallway, Steve remarked, “I’ve got something else planned for you tonight.”

Clint let out an interested noise, but didn’t follow it up with a question— he knew Steve would show him soon enough.

Steve walked them into the bedroom and stopped in front of the bed to deposit Clint on it, ungracefully. Clint let out a huff of breath when he landed, bouncing once, and Steve had to laugh at the view.

“Fuck off.” Clint griped good-naturedly into the sheets.

Steve replied, “Hmm, I don’t think I will, actually.” And with that, he easily flipped Clint over onto his back; his legs falling apart obscenely, with his cock on full display.

“Goddamn, that’s pretty,” Steve whispered, letting his hands slide down Clint’s inner thighs.

“Mmm,” Clint groaned, “For you.”

Steve tapped Clint’s thighs with his fingers before straightening up. “Damn right.” He turned around and walked over to their dresser where they kept a myriad of toys and accessories, and grabbed the spreader bar.

He fiddled with it as he came back to the bed, adjusting the length and testing the clips. Clint watched with hooded eyes and a soft grin on his face— he might not know exactly what Steve had planned, but he always enjoyed it.

“Leg.” Steve intoned, tapping Clint’s right leg. Clint swung his leg dramatically and levered it onto Steve’s shoulder— much higher than Steve needed. Steve smacked his inner thighs, muttering “Brat,” before he grabbed Clint’s ankle and locked him into one side of the bar. The bar wasn’t spread far apart at the moment so that he could easily get Clint into position first. When he tapped on Clint’s other leg, Clint was less dramatic and offered his leg more graciously. Steve placed a kiss on the top of his foot in gratitude before locking that one in too.

Steve shimmied down off the bed, and took hold of the bar, hauling Clint with it. Clint squeaked at the way he was dragged helplessly down the bed, but then he groaned when Steve loosened the bar and slid the two pieces apart. Clint had to quickly adjust his position to accommodate for the stretch, so Steve gave him a moment before pushing him a little further, leaving room to spread even more later, if he wanted. Clint fidgeted briefly to get comfortable with the strain, but then he quieted down and waited.

Steve never made him wait long, and soon he was reaching for Clint’s hands.

“My liege.” He pressed a kiss against both hands before pushing the bar up with a knee. Clint’s laugh turned into a grunt as he contorted himself to let Steve lock both of his wrists to the connection points on the bar.

The end result stretched his legs even wider, to the point that Clint was doing his best impression of a frog.

“You’re so bendy, I love it.” Anything Clint meant to say to that was forgotten the moment Steve began to stroke him, making him very much aware that he hadn’t gone completely soft. Within a few strokes, Clint was fully back at attention, and whining.

“Hmm, I could always make you bend a little more, huh? Lock this pretty little cock of yours to the bar too.” Steve wondered out loud, letting his thumb swipe over the cockhead for effect.

Clint, for his part, whimpered sharply and shook his head as he pleaded “Please, no…”

Steve stopped his movements to lean over Clint, pressing his weight against him and crushing him slightly— he kept most of his weight on one arm. Clint’s breath rushed out of him and Steve took the opportunity to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. With his other hand, he pushed tangles of sweaty hair from Clint’s face.

Steve’s voice was serious as he promised, “I won’t, baby. Maybe some other time— you’d look amazing— but not tonight.”

Clint grinned into the next kiss, and then gasped when Steve levered himself off.

His eyes stayed on Steve, watching the way Steve settled himself cross-legged at Clint’s feet, with a bottle of lube that he’d procured along with the bar. The quiet click of the lube bottle opening happened to coincide with a slight jerk of Clint’s cock, and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Eager?”

Clint grinned and let his middle finger slide out of his fists, the bar jingling slightly with the movement.

It didn’t bother Steve as he liberally coated his fingers and rubbed the lube to warm it slightly. Despite that, Clint’s grin still slid into a moan when Steve teased at his entrance— his fingers slipping the lube up and down his hole. Clint instinctively clenched against the touch— he was absolutely exposed in this position, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Steve quickly took advantage, relishing in the way Clint lost his breath whenever he slipped two fingers in him at once. It was already loose enough to start fingering him easily, and Steve picked up a lazy rhythm, pumping his fingers in and out slowly as he watched Clint’s reactions. 

He avoided Clint’s prostate at the beginning, knowing how sensitive he would be from their earlier game; the couple of times he accidentally grazed it, Clint sucked in a sharp breath and tried to flinch away. Steve was going to drive him crazy before long, but he wanted to enjoy the ride.

“You’re making some pretty noises for me.” Steve commented after Clint whimpered at another stroke. “Think I can get you to cry for me too?”

Clint whined and shook his head, but he didn’t contradict Steve. He knew damn well that Steve could and would reduce him to tears and pleading.

Steve decided it was time to reinforce that knowledge.

“I picked up something the other day that I think you’ll like. You’re going to have a fun time with it, and I’m going to have a fun time watching you.”

With that, he grabbed a cloth gag and crawled over Clint to show him. “I just want you to feel it all. You don’t have to worry about saying anything. Open wide.” Clint kept steady eye contact as he opened his mouth and let Steve fill the space with cloth. It did nothing to stop the noises, but was another reminder that he was under Steve’s control.

Steve loved it because the cloth was going to get sloppy and wet within a few minutes, and it was something that Clint could bite on easily.

He pressed the green bell back into Clint’s hand, then got up from the bed and took two steps back, admiring the view. Clint was absolutely decadent, trussed up and ready for anything Steve wanted to do to him.

“Almost ready.” He said, turning his back for a moment to grab two toys from their handy spot on the dresser.

One was new— a prostate massager that Steve had ordered a couple of days earlier, and the main inspiration for this evening’s fun. It was a rich, dark purple, which had been half the reason Steve bought it. The other toy, he discreetly slipped in his pocket.

Glad he had already cleaned the massager earlier, Steve brought it back with him and knelt in front of the bed, eye level with Clint’s ass, fully on display.

“We’re just going to get this all settled.” He lubed it up quickly and Clint grunted softly when Steve nudged his hole. “Relax, this is going in.”

It was a promise, and one Clint knew Steve would hold to. Within a few moments, Clint breathed out and Steve pushed carefully, relishing the way Clint’s ass seemed to swallow up the toy. He went slowly— even knowing that the earlier dildo was much larger— wanting to savor the experience.

That was what this night was all about, after all.

Clint whined when the widest part of the toy finally slipped inside, and then it lodged itself firmly; Steve’s view of the rest of the toy sticking out of Clint’s body was obscene, and he took the time to slightly pull on it and allow it to get sucked in again, fucking Clint in shallow increments.

It took until Clint started whimpering again before Steve chuckled and lightly slapped a cheek, enjoying the way Clint startled and flinched.

“We’ve got one more thing.” Steve pushed himself up, and stuck his hand in his pocket, grabbing the cock ring. It was a cheap thing, just leather snaps with different adjustments, but it absolutely did the trick for them. Clint shook his head slightly but the bell remained firmly in his fist— Steve knew the token protest too well.

“Can’t have you going off too soon, can we?” He grinned when Clint groaned in response, knowing they’d been going at this for a long time already. Steve chose to ignore that fact. Instead, he grabbed Clint’s cock and balls, giving them an obligatory grope that Clint couldn’t escape. Bending over for a better look, Steve wrapped the straps around his equipment— mindful of not catching any skin—clicked the snaps in place, and watched as Clint tried to curl in on himself as best as he could.

“Shh, just breathe through it.” Steve rubbed Clint’s stomach soothingly. Clint had told him before that sometimes when he was really riled up, putting on the ring would make him feel like his stomach was in his throat, and Steve didn’t doubt that was what he must be feeling now. Steve tried to distract Clint from it, crawling up next to him and kissing his forehead and temples, grinning when after a moment, Clint got with the program and turned towards him.

“There you go. You ready?” Clint’s pupils were blown, and he was already starting to drool slightly through the cloth, but he nodded readily; his lips were too stretched to have a true smile, but Steve could still see it in his expression.

“Yeah you are. Just enjoy it, okay?” With that, he grabbed the remote for the massager from the bed, and turned it on.

Then he got comfortable, sitting across from Clint, and settled in to watch the show.

At first, Clint was a trooper, lying back and going along with the ride, clearly liking the set-up as he got more and more into it. Steve could see the way the massager whirred away, sometimes almost fucking in and out of Clint, and sometimes just going along with any of his twitches, but Steve knew that the real magic was going on inside him, and only Clint’s slowly increasing reactions gave it away.

Clint’s cock had already been looking a little pink, but now it was starting to redden near the tip, pre-come beading and slipping down to mingle with sweat that had never managed to dry. Steve grinned, knowing that Clint was going to appreciate a good bath later.

The first forced orgasm took a while, and Clint looked almost bewildered when it happened; it wasn’t a typical orgasm— his cock was too tightly wrapped up for that— but that didn’t stop the massager from milking him and causing semen to trickle out, too much to reasonably call pre-come. Plus, the alarmed and muffled cry from Clint would have been enough to tell Steve he was experiencing something intense.

“Beautiful.” Steve breathed, swiping through the mess and tapping at the massager, causing Clint to cry out from overstimulation. “God, you’re harder now than before, did you know that?” It was true, Clint’s cock was completely erect, bobbing on its own as it tried and failed to spit out more come.

Steve wiped his fingers on Clint’s cramping stomach, saying, “Let’s see how many more we can get through.”

The second time, Clint was absolutely unable to keep quiet, a litany of whimpers and cries escaped his lips, that ramped up higher and higher the closer he got to a cruel orgasm that wouldn’t provide any relief. Sure enough, his orgasm was finally heralded by a scream and shaking legs that jingled their clasps. Tears leaked down Clint’s temples afterwards, accompanied by him shaking his head and trying— and failing— to uncurl his torso.

“You look so good right now, all tied up just for me. Like a present.” It was true; Clint’s muscles were bunched tightly, gleaming and shiny with sweat, and rippling with the effort of not only holding the position they were forced into, but the effort of his body being stimulated with unyielding pleasure. Clint could only moan an answer, and Steve took the opportunity to grab his chin and turn Clint towards him. “I could just eat you up.” He kissed his nose and forehead, and Clint closed his eyes, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

Steve took the time to apply more lube to his hole and the massager, appreciating the way Clint relaxed in the momentary respite, and loving the betrayed grunt when Steve slid the toy straight back in.

By the third time, Clint was starting to go absolutely wild with pleasure, and he was still so fucking hard. Steve took the time to undress himself, feeling too constrained even in his sweats and tank top. Plus, it felt so much better to give himself a few strokes when he was naked, watching Clint shake himself apart. He grinned because he was pretty sure that Clint hadn’t even noticed.

That was alright. He would eventually. 

The fourth time, Clint started sobbing, nearly choking, so Steve took pity on him and reached for the cloth gag, pulling it and neatly peeling it out of his mouth. It was absolutely soaked through, and the second his mouth was free, Clint started to beg, “Please, please, Steve…”

Steve tossed the cloth towards the hamper, knowing they would have a lot of laundry later, saying, “What is it, baby? What do you need?”

Clint whimpered, but could only repeat, “Please, please.”

But then the massager revved up for another round, and Clint’s eyes rolled back in his head as he yelled and gasped, utterly unable to do anything but tremble and shake in unyielding pleasure.

His legs were violently trembling, jerking and pulling in all directions, and his stomach rippled as his hips undulated, fighting his bonds, seeking a true release that was always just out of reach.

Steve couldn’t imagine the strain Clint was under, let alone the core strength needed for him to stay in position. 

Coming down from the fourth round took some long, long minutes, with Clint shuddering non-stop, breathing hard and whining every time the massager engaged, even just a little. On the come-downs, Steve always slowed it down, but he never turned it completely off.

“Think I might let you come soon.” He pondered out loud, reaching down and wiggling the massager, teasing him by pulling it slowly side-to-side, in and out, and finally, finally, removing it completely. Clint cried out in relief, then sighed and went limp for a moment, still panting. “Haven’t decided yet, though.” Steve applied more lube to Clint’s sore hole, loving how it couldn’t quite close all the way, and how it quivered even without his touch. He slipped his fingers in and out a couple of times, and even had to take a quick moment to himself at the intense heat that swallowed his fingers.

Clint whimpered and strained against the cuffs, residual attempts that were just as futile now as they were when Steve had first put them on.

“Don’t really need to tie you down,” Steve mentioned conversationally as he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the bed sheets. He then went about unlatching the hooks at the wrist and ankle cuffs, releasing Clint, “but it’s just so much fun to watch, isn’t it?”

Clint’s newfound freedom was short-lived; Steve gave him enough time to uncurl and stretch out his tired muscles while he pushed the bar away. Clint still had his cuffs on, and he looked delectable, writhing on the bed sheets with only leather to adorn him. The sight spurred Steve to move quickly, easily flipping Clint over and pinning him to the bed under his body.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” Steve nearly growled it, appreciating Clint’s token rebellion, but quashing it immediately by pushing him down and sliding into him without warning. It was glorious; if he thought the tight heat was good on his fingers, it had nothing on how it felt around his cock. He hadn’t lubed himself up, but Clint was slicked enough to ease the way as Steve stretched him and almost immediately set a rough pace.

“Steve, Steve, please, Steve,” Clint mumbled, his face pushed halfway into a pillow as Steve pounded into him, the sound of skin slapping against skin obscene in the room.

“Take it. Just take it.” Steve ordered, voice hoarse and pitched low. “You’re being so good. Be good for me.”

Clint’s gasps and whimpers quieted under the praise, and Steve fucked him harder, feeling Clint’s body shudder beneath him, but he took it like he was told.

Steve couldn’t really drag it out any longer— and didn’t want to anymore— so he drove into Clint hard a few more times before he finally stilled, his own orgasm sweeping over him. He held himself there, half-crushing Clint, feeling the sensations ebb in waves as he breathed hard. Clint didn’t move— couldn’t, really— and Steve was filled with so much love for him.

“God, you’re fucking perfect.”

Clint rolled his hips helpfully, squeezing Steve tighter, and Steve groaned. Even now, fucked out, and desperate, he was still trying to make things better for Steve.

Quickly, but carefully, Steve pulled out, and Clint barely had time to whine in protest before he was being flipped over once again; with one smooth move, Steve lowered himself and swallowed Clint down, making himself relax his throat so he could take in as much of Clint as possible.

Steve anticipated Clint’s first reaction and already had his hands on Clint’s thighs to hold him down, not letting him buck or struggle. Once Clint exhaled—sounding more like a cry— Steve removed one hand to sneak it between them and unclasp the leather ring.

Clint’s orgasm was immediate, if nearly dry. He screamed as his muscles spasmed, trying to curl in on themselves; but Steve held him still, pushing him down and sucking him hard. Clint’s hands found themselves on Steve’s head, fingers scrabbling and getting caught in his hair, but Steve didn’t care, bobbing up and down to prolong his orgasm.

He went at it for a little longer until he heard Clint’s wet gasps. Pulling off, Steve grinned and looked at him, crawling up when he saw that Clint was shaking and crying.

“Hey there,” Steve soothed, letting some of his body weight drop down onto Clint to pin him; it always calmed him quickly when he couldn’t escape, something that tickled Steve no end.

Sure enough, Clint hiccupped in response and brought his hands up to wrap around Steve, pulling him closer and burying his face against Steve’s neck. He was shaking and trembling so Steve let himself fall more, putting a little more of his weight down to keep him still. Clint just went with it, gripping Steve and rubbing his face back and forth against Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re okay, you’re done. You did so well for me.” Steve knew their post-scene come down routine by heart, stroking Clint’s hair and ignoring the awkward angle he had to adopt to do it. Clint was always fragile and exhausted after a hard night, and Steve let him find his way back at his own pace, always reassuring him that he was never alone.

He was heartfelt and earnest, telling Clint, “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you.” He dropped kisses where he could, and stroked him gently along still-sweaty skin. One good thing Steve enjoyed about Clint wanting body pressure like this was that he never had to worry about Clint cooling down too quickly.

They laid there together for long minutes, both of them trying to get control of their breathing, though Clint took a little longer. He was still crying, though his shuddering sobs tapered down to faint sniffles and sighs. Steve kept up his litany of soothing words and praises, and when Clint had managed to calm down, he asked, “You ready?”

Clint was too tired for words but Steve felt him nod and give a mumble in agreement.

Steve grinned and kissed him again. He loved their scenes beyond measure, but he loved their aftercare routine even more. He slipped off the bed and brought Clint with him, hoisting him up easily and helping him to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist. Clint was a dead weight, head lolling on Steve’s shoulder as Steve took them both into the bathroom. It was easy for him to maneuver, turning on the bathtub and setting everything up with Clint clinging to him— they’d had enough practice that it was now second nature.

When they had enough water, Steve lowered them both into the tub, letting Clint settle against him as the warm water gently engulfed them. Clint sighed contentedly as Steve got to work cleaning both of their bodies. He was as slow and methodical about it as always, and Clint was happy to relax and let it happen.

Steve smiled to himself, knowing that Clint was familiar enough with the process to know that Steve didn’t take shortcuts, despite any protests Clint might have made.

He also knew that Clint had grown to enjoy it just as much as Steve.

When he finished, he leaned back and relaxed himself, the heavy weight of Clint reminding him that here they were allowed to just be.

“That was fun.” Clint mumbled, his head resting on Steve’s chest at enough of an incline that his mouth was out of the water.

Steve huffed a laugh, sending ripples along the surface. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You looked amazing.”

Clint hummed. “You make me feel amazing.”

Steve kissed the top of Clint’s head. “That’s because you are amazing.” He felt Clint grin against him at that.

“You should push me harder next time. I can take it.”

Steve gaped at him for a moment, even knowing that Clint couldn’t see him. “Are you serious? You’re barely conscious right now.” He was incredulous. Every time Steve thought he had thrown his worst at Clint, he just picked himself up and asked for more.

He was a lot like Steve in that respect.

Clint snorted. “I think you know that doesn’t bother me. You always take such good care of me.”

Steve chuckled and held him tighter.

“I’ll think about it.”

Clint rubbed his thumb against Steve’s wrist where he was holding on. “You’ll figure something out. I know I’ll love it.”

“I love you.”

Clint picked his head up enough to look at Steve, tired but still grinning, and said, “I love you too. Now let me chill.”

Steve laughed as Clint let his head plop back down into the water with a splash.

Using his foot, Steve turned on the water, letting it heat them some more. “As you wish.”


	2. Chest Day

Clint’s heavy breathing was loud in their gym, as was the ringing of heavy metal that resonated every time the weights released.

The chest press was ordinary, just a regular machine that Clint wanted for exercise, and not modified like their bike, but that hadn’t stopped Steve from figuring out how to utilize it. Clint had cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and was hooked to anchor points on the machine— wrists to the handle bars so he couldn’t bring them down even if he let go, and ankles to the legs of the machine that stretched out either side. Steve found it amusing that in order to attach his legs, Clint had to really spread his thighs, adding an extra stretch and a balance challenge to an already grueling workout.

Because this was also unquestionably a workout, with Clint pressing 285 pounds.

Steve had made it extra difficult, just for fun. Strapped to Clint’s right leg was a slim black box with a wire that connected to a little contraption hooked around Clint’s cockhead. The e-stim was a newer model that Steve had recently bought, both for how easy it was to cage a penis, and the added bonus of a short sound that went into Clint’s cock— probably feeling much bigger than it really was— that was also hooked up to the electricity.

It was off right now, innocuous and inert, as Clint panted and brought the weights together. He was already dripping with sweat, and his muscles bulged under the strain; his biceps and triceps thick and straining, his abs showing off in all their ridiculous glory, and his thighs quivering from the effort of keeping himself upright.

He looked more like the peak of human condition than even Steve— Clint at the very least had earned it through hard work and dedication.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. How am I so lucky?” Steve breathed. He was sitting on a stool between Clint’s outstretched legs, low enough to avoid the moving weights. Clint exhaled harshly, going through his reps at a steady pace, if a bit slower than when they’d started.

Two orgasms ago.

Steve was Clint’s biggest cheerleader, but he was also his biggest distraction, and he was currently doing everything in his power to earn that title.

“I can’t believe how you’re still going, even now. That’s so impressive.” Steve stroked Clint’s cock slowly up and down, making Clint gasp and miss his next rep.

Steve tutted, and pressed the switch in his left hand with his thumb.

Clint yelled as the e-stim sent a burst of electricity straight into his cock.

His thighs bunched tighter, trying to close his legs in a desperate attempt at defense, but unable to move. Steve heard the clanging of Clint’s cuffs against the metal of the machine as Clint let go of the grips and tried to bring his hands down, but he was prevented immediately by the thorough restraints. 

“Clint, you’re getting distracted.” Steve said, matter-of-fact. He brought both his hands down to settle on Clint’s quivering thighs, offering mock-support as Clint yelled again and shuddered.

“I— can’t, I can’t…” Clint gasped out, his hips jerking off of the seat in desperation. Steve could see his ass was clenching tightly, which probably wasn’t helped by the heavy metal butt plug Steve had slipped in there at the beginning of the scene.

“Shh, you can, baby. You just gotta focus, remember?” He was encouraging, soothing Clint’s thighs, moving with him when Clint sat back down.

Clint panted heavily and through sheer force of will grabbed the grips again and pushed, bringing the weights in front of him.

Steve immediately turned off the electricity.

Clint gasped out, “Thank you…” but still kept his reps going.

“No need to thank me, Clint. It’s all you, remember?” Steve was cheerful, grinning at the way the machine clanged with every other rep— Clint was getting more careless about the release, but that was okay.

Steve absolutely loved coming up with these predicaments for Clint, and as infuriating as they were, he knew that Clint loved them too.

It was simple; if Clint stopped his reps, the electricity would turn on. Clint had taken to the challenge quickly at the beginning, and he was nothing if not stubborn, even after pushing himself to his limits.

Steve was happy to let Clint go as far as he wanted with this, eager to see it through to the end.

“You’re so strong, Clint.” Steve mentioned, watching Clint’s arms shake with the strain. “How about we up the ante a bit?”

He kept his tone casual, but Clint reacted to it immediately. He almost paused in his movements again, but managed to push through, so Steve didn’t comment. Instead, he reached under his stool and grabbed two nipple clamps. Clint had seen him put them there earlier, but judging by the expression on his face as he caught sight of them, he’d since completely forgotten.

“Keep doing your exercises, Clint. We’re working through the distractions together. You’ve got this.” Clint whined and then yelped when Steve attached the first clamp to a nipple. He was very deliberate, pinching the skin to get a good grip and then letting the clamp take over.

Clint was somewhat less appreciative of Steve’s methods.

Steve didn’t mind, nonchalantly repeating the process on the other nipple, enjoying Clint’s cries and moans.

At least he kept his reps going.

“Perfect, you’re doing so well! I’m so fucking proud of you, babe.” Steve praised, noting the way new beads of sweat slipped down Clint’s collarbone, only to form perfect trails past the clamps on his heaving chest.

Clint, for his part, simply wheezed an unintelligible reply, and kept going.

“You’ve got this.” Steve said. He then gave Clint a warning, saying, “We’re going to work through more distractions, so keep going.”

With that, Steve grabbed Clint’s cock and began to stroke him slowly, watching Clint’s face contort as he concentrated. “Just like that,” Steve encouraged, “you’re doing great.”

He was slow, but thorough. He knew all of Clint’s sensitive spots, and he exploited them carefully one by one; first he squeezed Clint’s balls, feeling the solid weight of them in his palm, then he moved to dig his thumb into the underside of Clint’s cock. He could feel the e-stim’s sound every time he pushed in, and judging by Clint’s quick intakes of breath, so could he.

Steve was lazy about his pace, but purposeful in every movement, gradually driving Clint insane. The creaking of the machine mingled with the clanging of weights dropping onto each other, and in any other circumstances Clint would have been awkwardly brushing off his lack of control. Now, though, his only job was to keep going.

Clint was clearly long past caring about gym etiquette, and Steve couldn’t fault him for that.

“Don’t get distracted, there you go. So good. Focus, focus.”

Clint’s chest was rippling with the effort, and the way he thrust it out made the nipple clamps just that much more obvious. “I’m going to speed things up.”

Steve stroked him quickly, squeezing his balls at the same time, and Clint gave a shout. His stomach contracted, and Steve appreciated the way the deep V of his groin was beautifully defined. Sweat pooled along his inner thighs, creating more of a mess out of the pre-come and semen already there.

Even now Clint was still leaking around the sound, and Steve was suitably impressed.

“Just like that, Clint, you got this.” Steve jerked him off, twisting his wrist on the up-stroke in a way he knew Clint loved. Or loved to hate probably, at the moment.

Clint was slipping on the seat. Whether from the sweat, or from trying to find a better position to brace against, Steve didn’t know.

Most likely because the metal plug in his ass was definitely adding to the uncomfortable situation, and slipping off the seat would go a long way to ease that particular strain.

“Tired of this?” Steve tapped on the base of the plug, causing Clint to whimper and shudder.

“Please…” he begged, and sweat was dripping into his eyes. Or maybe it was tears, the two were indistinguishable at this point.

Steve grabbed one of the towels from a basket on the floor and reached up to wipe Clint’s face while the weights were down. Clint skipped a beat to let Steve in, but the second Steve moved back, he pushed again to keep the weights moving.

“Good.” Steve said proudly. Clint had learned that lesson earlier, that just because Steve might get in the way, it wasn’t an excuse for him to rest.

Setting the towel down, Steve shifted his attention back to the gleaming plug. He gripped it, hand slipping from sweat and lube, and tugged. Clint was clenching too hard though, and it was difficult to wiggle it out.

“You gotta relax a bit, Clint.” Steve coaxed him, knowing how much effort it was for Clint to focus. Sure enough, it took a while before Steve felt the flesh finally give, and he could pull out the plug.

It was heavy, and big.

“We’re done with that, then.” Steve said, but before Clint could grit out his gratitude, Steve slipped two fingers inside.

“Wait…” Clint gasped, but when Steve looked up, the little green bell was still taped to the side of the machine. It would be so easy for Clint to flick it, even while holding on to the grips.

“It’s just my fingers. Relax.” Of course, Steve was curling his fingers, quickly finding Clint’s prostate and rubbing around. He still had his left hand on Clint’s cock, and didn’t miss a beat, matching his strokes with probing fingers.

“Steve, I can’t—, please, I—” Clint gasped, sliding more in his seat, but he wasn’t moving away. He was pushing into Steve’s hands, fucking himself as much as he could with no leverage.

Steve didn’t stop. “Just keep focusing on the weights, sweetie. Don’t think about it, just do it.”

Clint kept panting, wheezing every other breath. “I can’t…anymore….please—”

“We’re not done.” Steve reminded him, still stroking him evenly. “You know what happens if you stop.”

Clint shook, grunting and crying as he pushed himself, but he was too exhausted, and Steve saw the instant he gave up.

The weights clanged together heavily, the sound resonating in the otherwise quiet room.

Steve slipped his fingers out and let go of Clint’s cock to grab the remote, and turned it on.

Clint screamed as electricity coursed through him again, his cock jerking out of his control. He tried to curl up, but it was no use. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do but let it happen. Clint threw his head back and screamed again, and this time, Steve saw why:

His cock jerked hard, and then the sound was slowly pushing out of the tip, enough to let semen spurt around it. Clint’s orgasm looked painful to endure, and lasted for so long that Steve worried for a moment about the extreme contortions of Clint’s body.

But the semen eventually slowed its spurting, joining the general mess, and Clint went limp, only held up by his wrist cuffs. His body was still vibrating from the electric shocks, and his cock twitched violently with every pulse of current.

He was completely passed out, and Steve couldn’t help but smile.

Steve switched off the electricity, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on Clint, whose body still shivered and trembled, even while unconscious.

“You’re perfect.” Steve told him, knowing he’d say those words again when Clint could hear them.

Steve carefully removed the nipple clamps, rubbing the angry red skin underneath, then made his way down to work on the e-stim. Clint was finally soft, which made it easy to maneuver, slowly sliding the sound out until he was free, hanging limply; Steve couldn’t help grinning when he watched it still twitch occasionally.

He ripped the Velcro open and took off the box strapped to his thigh, setting everything down on the floor— he’d deal with it later.

Clint’s ankle cuffs were easy, sliding off when they were loose enough. Clint had slumped even further, but Steve had him, slipping an arm around his back for support as he undid each of Clint’s wrist cuffs. Steve picked him up, and carried him out of their gym, heading to the master bathroom.

They were both settled in the bathtub, and nearly done cleaning when Clint finally came to, groaning and whining with every breath.

“Hey there.” Steve loved their routine check-ins. No matter how exhausted Clint was, he always found a way to respond.

This time, Clint poked him. It was weak and he completely missed Steve’s tickle spots, but Steve laughed anyway.

“Think I pushed you hard enough?”

Clint just groaned in reply. After Steve took his time washing Clint’s hair, he slurred out, “I’m gonna be sore.”

Steve laughed again. “You think? That’s why the water is so hot.”

Clint cracked an eyelid. “Mmm, hadn’t noticed.”

Steve was sure that aliens could have begun their second invasion in their bathroom right then, and Clint wouldn’t even have noticed.

“We’re going to finish up here, and then you’re going to drink and eat something. Get some Ibuprofen too.” Steve already had easy-to-eat snacks in the fridge, rich in protein. He also had their usual chocolate and sweet treats. Anything Clint wanted, Steve would give it to him.

Clint hummed, non-committal, which Steve put down to exhaustion. He didn’t mind, especially when Clint nuzzled closer and licked at Steve’s chest.

Steve smiled and continued the cleanup while Clint did his best impression of a limp noodle.

Later, after they’d eaten and Steve was satisfied that Clint was hydrated and as comfortable as he could be, Clint snuggled in close, under the sheets.

“You’re so good to me.” He mumbled it sleepily.

Steve pulled him in closer, smiling at the smell of Clint’s hair— freshly dried— shampoo and soap, plus the underlying scent that was all Clint. “That’s my line, you know.”

Clint poked him again, this time finding a ticklish spot and smiling when it made Steve squeak. “Doesn’t make it less true.”

Steve hummed in answer. “You really were amazing today. I’m not sure I could have done what you did.”

“Sure you could. If you had the same incentive.” Clint grinned, closing eyes.

“Maybe.” Steve said, unconvinced. “Either way, I’m very impressed. And so unbelievably proud of you.”

Clint snorted. “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah,” Steve started, “But I’m your sap, so deal with it.”

“Every day. Gladly.” Clint tilted his head up towards Steve, expectant. Steve gave in immediately, shifting so he could give Clint a kiss.

“Now go to sleep. You’ve definitely earned it.”

Clint grumbled half-heartedly, but relaxed back on the bed.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he reached over to turn off the lights and snuggled in closer to Clint, happy as they drifted off to sleep.


	3. Leg Day

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Steve, for the last time, I’m definitely down for this. Now hook me up.” Clint grinned, carefree in a way Steve knew he could never pull off himself.

“If you’re really sure…” Steve trailed off, hooking a hand around the nape of Clint’s neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Clint went willingly, yielding easily to the pressure. When Steve broke the kiss, Clint tried to follow, but Steve’s hand pressed squarely on his chest, stopping him. “Take off your clothes and bend over.”

“Yes, sir.” Clint’s response was tongue-in-cheek, and Steve rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny that watching Clint strip was always erotic.

His clothes weren’t shown any sort of consideration, thrown in a heap against the wall, but Steve didn’t care; they’d pick them up later when they cleaned. When Clint was naked, Steve watched as Clint considered the best place to settle.

Since they were going to use the adductor machine, Clint naturally made his way over, but instead of sitting down, he spread his legs and lowered himself in between the pads, elbows resting on the seat so his ass was fully on display.

“Mmm, perfect. Stay just like that.” Steve told him, and walked out of their gym.

He knew Clint wouldn’t move an inch.

Steve took his time walking to their bedroom and closet, grabbing everything he would need. Part of the fun was knowing that Clint would start to wonder exactly when Steve would come back, and though he would hold the position, it would mentally start to weigh on him.

Just a little.

Enough to kick-start the evening.

As Steve made his way back— carrying his load— he stopped by the kitchen to grab a Gatorade to add to the pile.

Sure enough, when he returned to the gym, Clint was in the exact same spot, back arched beautifully, showing off all his muscles.

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” Steve gently settled all of his paraphernalia on a bench that he dragged over to the machine, right behind Clint.

Clint hummed happily. “Just for you.”

Steve let him hold the position as he settled on the bench, organizing everything the way he wanted. When he was satisfied, he brought his attention to Clint and his beautifully laid-out ass.

He reached out and stroked him, getting a good handful that he couldn’t help but squeeze. Clint sighed happily at the contact. Steve let go to slide his hands around Clint’s hips, tugging back slightly to bring his ass closer. It caused Clint to curve in even more, and Steve couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine the lewd expression on it well enough.

“You’re lucky so you’re so cute.” Steve joked, leaning in to kiss his ass. Clint hummed, and then let out a startled gasp when Steve gently bit the meat of his cheek. Just to make it even, Steve returned the favor on the other side before turning his attention back to his main target.

He felt Clint’s anticipation and bewilderment as he licked a stripe right over Clint’s hole. No matter how many times they played, Clint always seemed to be surprised that Steve would do this to him.

For him.

It was absolutely endearing.

Steve grinned, bringing his hands in front of him to spread Clint out a little more, and got to work, lavishing his tongue up and down, only to tease at the loosening ring of muscle. He pushed, gently on each stroke, until his tongue could go deeper and deeper each time— the tip just barely breaching.

Clint was moaning now, caught off guard. Steve had told him his general plans for the night, but he hadn’t specified just how he was going to warm Clint up.

Already Clint’s thighs were shaking, and he kept swaying a bit from side to side, in a way Steve knew meant he was trying to ground himself. When Steve pulled back to admire the view, he could see that Clint’s cock had filled out quite a bit where it hung between his legs.

Steve grinned, wiping his mouth. He had plans for that later.

He got back to work, wanting to drive Clint wild, and thoroughly succeeded. By the time Clint started pushing his hips back a little, trying to get more, Steve had already managed to open Clint up quite a lot; he’d cheated a little with his thumbs, but he didn’t think Clint would fault him for it. Steve straightened up and felt vindicated when he saw that Clint’s hole was soaking wet. The surrounding delicate skin was delightfully pink— the blood close to the surface.

Steve hadn’t shaved since yesterday, strategically planning the beard-burn.

“So sweet.” Steve murmured, and Clint practically preened, pushing his hips back another inch.

Steve was cheerful as he said, “Now we’re going to get started.”

He picked up the bottle of lube from behind him and slicked his fingers generously. Clint took the first finger easily, and only shifted slightly for the second. It didn’t take long before Steve was confident Clint could take a third, the ring of muscle loose and stretching easily as Steve pumped his fingers in and out at his leisure.

“Good.” Steve announced when he was sure Clint was loose enough.

He slipped his fingers out and grabbed the string of anal beads on the bench. Each one was larger than the next— and they didn’t exactly start very small— and there were five of them in total. Steve lubed them up, probably going a little overboard, but not caring about finesse.

“You’re going to breathe for me with each one.” He told Clint, pressing the smallest bead to his hole. Clint nodded against his forearms and inhaled deeply. As he let the breath out, Steve pushed and watched as Clint’s asshole swallowed up the first bead easily. “Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

Clint inhaled again.

Breathing out, Steve pushed the second one in, still easy, with the lube making things slide smoothly.

“That’s two. Keep going.”

Breath in.

Breath out, and Steve had to push a little harder, feeling some resistance. It was only for a moment, and then the third was in as well.

Another breath.

The fourth one was large. This one was tough, but Steve just kept it in place, making sure not to lose any ground. “You’re okay, relax.” Clint shuddered, breathing in quickly twice before letting it all out in a rush.

“That’s it, you’re good.” Steve praised him, and then Clint’s muscle relaxed enough for him to give one final push and it was in.

“Fuck…” Clint groaned.

“Take a moment. Breathe.” Steve soothed, taking the time to pat Clint’s thigh with his free hand. Clint shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to get used to the new intrusions. Steve could only imagine how full he must be feeling and slipped his hand around to Clint’s stomach, sliding along the muscles there. He couldn’t feel anything, but Clint obviously could with how he tensed, abs shivering to the touch.

“I’m not doing anything yet.” Steve told him, even though Clint was already aware. “Take your time.”

Steve pressed light kisses along Clint’s ass cheek and thigh, feeling each tremor running under the skin. He slicked the last bead again, just to keep it fresh, and waited Clint out.

He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t have to wait long.

“I’m good, give it to me.” Clint growled out after a moment, deliberately pushing his ass back despite how tightly he was holding the beads in.

Steve took him at his word, knowing Clint’s limits well, and told him, “Keep breathing, you got this.”

Then he started pushing.

The fifth one was only slightly ridiculous.

They had played with it before, of course, but that didn’t make it any less daunting as Steve slowly twisted it inside, implacable. Clint shied away only once, before Steve caught him by the hip and held him still.

“Just let me. It’s going in, you know it will.” Steve coaxed.

Clint groaned, a deep sound that ended in a whine when Steve suddenly relaxed his hold.

It was confusing for Clint, who had essentially been bracing himself, and he was forced to suddenly relax against all his instincts; Steve anticipated it and pushed at the same time.

Clint yelled when the bead stretched his rim at the widest point, and then slid in safely. The little exposed ring at the end looked so scandalous, hiding a deep secret.

“Steve…” Clint shuddered repeatedly. He was constantly moving now, swaying his hips and flexing his muscles. He seemed to ripple as he locked and unlocked his knees, trying to find a better position.

“I’ve got you, c’mere.” Steve wiped his hands on a towel and then carefully guided Clint to stand. The second he was upright and facing Steve, Clint whimpered, and Steve sunk his hand into Clint’s hair and tugged, bringing him into a crashing kiss.

Clint whined and brought his hands up to grab onto Steve’s shirt, letting himself get lost in Steve’s control.

It was only a few moments, but Steve felt it the moment Clint sagged a little, settled. Moving back, he grinned at the wrecked look on Clint’s face.

“We haven’t even started the work out yet. You still up for it?”

Clint opened his eyes, pupils dilated and determined. “Absolutely. Fuck me up.”

Steve kissed him again, a quick peck. “As you wish. Sit down.”

Clint’s breath quickened at the idea, but he was malleable as Steve led him backwards to the seat he’d just been leaning on. Steve didn’t mind taking Clint’s weight and helping him carefully sit down, knowing Clint needed the extra support. They took it slow, with Clint grimacing and gasping the whole way until his ass finally touched the seat.

Steve let him hold on a moment longer and then moved away, making sure Clint’s weight was solidly on the seat.

Clint cried out helplessly when he was sitting.

“You look comfortable.” Steve teased him, his tone light. Clint’s glare was short-lived before he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, wriggling a little to check for a better position, and finding none.

Steve let him settle, grabbing the cuffs from the far side of the bench. Clint had his hands on the edges of the seat, clearly supporting some of his weight to try and alleviate his situation. He let Steve buckle the cuffs around his wrists easily enough, but he whined when he realized where Steve was going to attach the anchor points.

“I don’t want you to cheat, that’s all.” Steve explained loftily, and Clint stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation. Steve didn’t mind, and hooked his right cuff to the clip next to the seat. The position made it impossible for Clint to hold on, so he was forced to relax his hand. When Steve did the same to the other cuff, Clint whined, long and overwhelmed, as his full bodyweight finally settled onto the seat. He had no more leverage, and Steve knew he would be able to feel every single bead pushing into him from the inside out.

Steve’s voice might have been a little too cheerful when he said, “Ankles next.” Clint shook his head reflexively, but no safeword passed his lips, so Steve continued, wrapping the cuffs around his ankles and then tapping the tops of Clint’s thighs.

Clint knew what Steve wanted, but took his time about it, trying to figure out how to move in the least stimulating way. It looked like he was unsuccessful, as he slowly lifted a leg over one of the pads to the outside of the mechanism. He glanced up at Steve hesitantly when he tried to shift his other leg, so Steve helped him, spreading his legs out obscenely until Clint was gasping, but in the correct position.

Both pads were now on the insides of his thighs, and his legs were already quivering in the stretched position. Steve might have locked it a little further apart than strictly necessary, but Clint was more than flexible enough to pull it off.

Steve attached the ankle cuffs to the legs of the pads, glad that they would move with Clint’s legs.

Clint was restless, still futilely trying to shift into a better position, before giving up and trying all over again. Steve didn’t mind— Clint would have more things to worry about very soon— and grabbed the toy he wanted. It was a three-holed strap for Clint’s balls that, when attached, would fit snugly just under his cock, while isolating each testicle.

Clint wasn’t paying attention to what Steve was doing until he reached out and grabbed his balls, squeezing and massaging them lightly.

“Fuck…” Clint gasped, trying to curl in. Steve tugged a little, making Clint cry out, and then started tying his balls, pulling each through the straps, and being mindful of the tender skin. Clint moaned when Steve finished, shaking his head as he got used to the new feelings. Steve grinned at his knowledge of the predicament Clint was about to find himself in.

There was a single tiny metal ring on the ball-strap, that was exposed right in the middle between each testicle. Clint probably couldn’t even feel it with how tightly wound up he was, but Steve could see it. Using a long piece of rope, Steve took his time in tying one side of it to the left side of the pad, securing it around the rod, and then threading the rope through the ring. He pulled the rope slowly, until it stretched the ball-strap out with the tension, and Clint’s gaze snapped to Steve.

“Clench up for me, please. Gotta measure this right.” Steve told Clint, but it took him a moment before he moved, pushing his thighs inwards and moving the pads. “Good, hold it there.”

It was only a few inches— nothing too exerting— but Clint held it as Steve fixed the rope around the right side of the pad. Like this— and any time Clint pushed the pads inwards— Clint’s balls were fine, but…

“Okay, relax.”

Clint relaxed his legs, letting the machine push them outwards, and then promptly whimpered.

The rope grew taut as the machine spread, which caused it to pull at the ring attached to his ball-strap. This meant that Clint’s balls were tugged away from his body any time he relaxed in the machine.

Sure enough, Clint couldn’t stand it and immediately pushed inwards, relaxing the rope and releasing his balls from their stretched position.

“You’re the worst.” Clint gritted out, making Steve grin.

“You asked for it.” He leaned in and grabbed his throat, keeping Clint still as Steve kissed him. “We’re not done yet.” He whispered.

Leaning back, he told Clint needlessly, “You might want to work your legs today.”

As if Clint’s thighs weren’t already shaking with the way he tried to hold his legs together. Steve had set the weight at only 160 pounds, knowing it was just enough of a challenge with all the extra bells and whistles that Clint would appreciate it.

Or at least he would be glad it wasn’t more weight.

As it was, Clint soon had to relax again, only to immediately push the pads inwards when he felt the pull at his balls.

Steve could watch him work out all day.

But there was one last element of the night’s activities he had planned, so he had to tear his eyes away and grab the last item from the bench, a small portable milking machine. It was really more of a cock sleeve, and Steve was once again so thankful for modern inventions. For all of its apparent simplicity, it actually had a pretty sneaky mechanism. The inner tip of the sleeve had nubs inside to stimulate the cockhead, and focused its suction solely on that area. They had other milking machines that worked the entire cock, but Steve was excited to see Clint’s reaction to this one.

Scooting to the edge of the bench again, Steve waited until Clint relaxed and opened his legs again to tell him, “Wait for a moment, please.”

His tone was polite, but the order brokered no argument. Clint inhaled deeply as he tried to ignore the pull on his balls, but he held the position.

“You’re so good at listening. I love that.” Steve couldn’t help a genuine smile, adoring the way Clint offered up a shaky grin in return. The praise was heartfelt, and Clint knew it, even if he was being subjected to sweet torture at the same time.

Reaching out once more, Steve got a good grip on Clint’s cock, stroking it a couple of times just to watch Clint shudder and moan. He kept it up for a while, swiping under the cockhead a few times with his thumb, enjoying the way the tip reddened with each swipe. His cock was hard and engorged in his hand— already desperate to come, but prevented by the contraption around his balls.

“Feeling ready?” Steve asked, still stroking him at an even pace.

“Please…” Clint begged, twitching under Steve’s grip and breathing faster.

“Hmm, not yet, I don’t think so. Gotta work for it, remember?”

Clint whined brokenly, but said nothing as Steve stroked him one last time and then rolled the sleeve onto him. Steve used just a little bit of lube to ease the way, and even then it was a tight fit, molding itself to every ridge of Clint’s cock. The sleeve rolled all the way down the length, and Steve was again struck impressed by how thick and long Clint was.

It made everything so easy.

Steve untangled the wire connecting the tip of the sleeve to a remote and declared, “Let’s get the party started.”

Steve pressed the button to wake up the toy to its first level and was amused at the way the sleeve shrank just a little more, sucking out every last particle of air until it was massaging the cockhead directly with its rhythmic pulses.

Clint gasped and let out a guttural sound, caught between trying to escape the feeling, and avoiding pulling on his balls even more than he had already.

“Here’s the deal. I switch it off every time you flex. I turn it back on when you take a break.”

Clint gritted his teeth as he watched Steve’s explanation. That was fair— Clint wouldn’t be able to stand his breaks for long, between the milking machine and his balls getting tugged— so he’d have to flex his thighs and push the pads in to loosen the rope and escape the toy. However, he wouldn’t be able to hold the position for long and would eventually have to let his legs fall back for a break, only to start the cycle all over again.

“Oh,” Steve said, almost like an afterthought, “and we’re not stopping until you come.”

That was the look Steve had been waiting for all night: Clint’s eyes widened and almost filled with tears, ready to cry when he realized exactly what that meant. It was going to take a long time— if at all— for him to get desperate enough to come with his testicles wrapped so tightly.

And he was clearly already desperate.

“It’s okay though, I’m here. You’ve got me, and I believe in you. You can do this, Clint. I know you can.” Encouragement was easy to give to Clint, and Steve never held back. Clint thrived on challenges and support, and Steve would gladly always give him both.

Clint’s breathing picked up as he caved in and had to flex his legs, working the trembling muscles. As promised, Steve switched the toy off.

And so it began: Clint admirably held out for as long as possible, holding the weight, but eventually exhaled harshly as he was forced to let go, only to jerk when the the machine came back to life and teased his cock while the rope stretched taut. He could only stand it for so long before he sought relief again, only to rediscover that there was no true relief in this scenario.

Especially since every time he moved, he shifted and settled his full weight on the anal beads crowded inside of him.

Steve watched closely at the way the sheen along Clint’s skin turned wetter and slick with sweat, how it dripped along Clint’s temples and down his working abs. Clint’s hands were clenched into useless fists, unable to hold onto anything or ground himself. When his legs were apart, Clint’s toes would curl against the ground, and he unconsciously tested the give of the cuffs. Every muscle was working in overdrive, clenching, flexing, undulating every time Clint failed to find an easier way to cope with the teasing and torture.

Of course, Steve was also unpredictable in what intensity level he set the milking machine to during the downtimes.

Alcohol might not affect Steve, but he felt drunk on this— watching Clint grow more and more frazzled and turned on, and absolutely helpless to do anything to stop it.

Tears were now streaming down Clint’s face, nearly indiscernible from sweat. Clint squeezed his eyes shut in concentration one moment, only to snap them wide open the next, looking around frantically as if to find something that could help him escape.

The only sounds that came out of his mouth were choked whimpers, moans, and cries, interspersed with unintelligible pleadings that Steve gently ignored.

“You don’t even know how beautiful you look right now, do you?” Steve breathed, so utterly taken by the scene laid out in front of him. “You’re so strong, so perfect.”

Fresh tears slid down Clint’s cheeks, indifferent to the wet mess already smeared there.

“Please— Steve…” Clint’s voice cracked, barely audible over his rapid breathing. He was currently taking a break from straining his muscles outward, but that meant he was getting tugged and milked. His balls looked very sore— deep red and swollen— and Steve could only imagine how his cock was faring beneath the sleeve. They’d been at it for long enough that the stimulation must be unbearable. He’d been teetering on the edge of orgasm for a long time now, and Steve knew that if he loosened the straps even just a little, Clint would come screaming immediately.

Well, he wasn’t going to rule out screaming any time soon.

“Baby, you know how to finish this. There’s only one way through. Show me how good you can be.” Of course, they both knew that there was another way to end this, but Clint was always determined to push through. Steve admired him for it, even if he was sometimes surprised at his endurance. And concerned.

He was always concerned, though.

“Please, please…please— please—” Clint panted out harsh breaths in between each word. When Steve pressed his hand against Clint’s chest, he could feel the hard and fast beating of his heart, pounding from exertion.

“Keep going, Clint. You’re almost there.” Steve didn’t know if Clint was going to be able to pull it off or not, but it wouldn’t be the first time Clint achieved the impossible, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Clint gulped in more air and then tried to close his legs. He only moved the pads a couple of inches before his strength gave out, exposing him completely and subjecting him to more stimulation. His thighs were shaking and quivering, unable to bear any more weight.

Steve pressed the button again, and Clint sobbed.

He was beyond words at this point, and Steve settled his hands on Clint’s thighs, feeling the tremors ripple under his fingers.

“You can do this, baby, I know you can. Just come. Come for me. I know you want to.” Steve coaxed him, implacably massaging his tired muscles.

Clint shook his head.

“No? I think you do.” Trying to be helpful, Steve pressed the button on the remote a couple of times, leaving it on the highest level.

More tears, but this time, they were accompanied by Clint screaming and going completely rigid, breaths shuddering out in a staccato rhythm.

Steve looked down and could see Clint’s cock twitching in the sleeve, and his balls pulled even tighter as he shifted.

He huffed a laugh to himself, happy that he’d called it: Clint would always scream his orgasms when they got up to no good like this.

After a few endless moments, Clint slumped, trembling with his eyes glazed over and half-lidded. He let his head tip forward, too far gone to hold it upright. Steve pressed the button to turn off the milking toy, and then unclipped the weights from the machine. Without the resistance, the pads immediately swung inwards, letting Clint’s legs fall closed.

Steve talked to Clint— his usual chatter— as he worked to free him. He started with the milking toy, carefully grabbing hold of the base and rolling it off. Clint was still hard which made it easier, and as he reached the tip, Steve was mildly surprised to see barely any semen.

It made sense when he thought about it— with his balls tied so tightly Clint had no choice but to come dry, and it was a pleasant surprise. He hadn’t known Clint could do that, but now that he did, he was sure he’d figure out ways to repeat the experience.

He then set to work on the rope, untying it from the pad’s struts and sliding it out of the loop. Carefully, Steve undid the straps around Clint’s balls, delicately freeing each one. When Steve set the strap down behind him, Clint’s only reaction was a hitched breath.

It could have been from him coming down.

It was quick work to undo the cuffs and throw them to the side, putting a steady hand on Clint’s chest to keep him still. Steve didn’t think he’d fall, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Almost done, babe. Just a couple more things.” Clint didn’t answer, but then, he didn’t have to.

Gently, Steve pulled Clint up until he was enough off of the adductor machine that Steve could lever him forward onto the bench. Because it was perpendicular, it was simple to ease Clint onto his front, laying him along the length of it. His arms and legs dangled onto the floor on either side of the bench, but that was okay.

“Gotta get these out.” Steve narrated, spreading Clint’s cheeks apart to expose the ring at the end of the beads. Steve hooked a finger and tugged, earning some alarmed sounds from Clint, who shifted. “You know the drill. Just let me do the work now. You deserve it.”

Clint tried to relax, but Steve figured it would be close to impossible with how big the beads were. In the end, Clint only flailed a little as Steve pulled out the first bead— not allowing it to get stuck, and going only slowly enough to make sure it didn’t hurt Clint. The second bead pushed a quiet moan out of Clint, but the rest were nearly imperceptible.

“You did it.” Steve dropped the beads on a towel and patted Clint’s ass, laughing at the slick sound his contact made. “One last thing, and don’t worry— you still don’t have to do anything.”

Steve spread his legs and squatted. The height was wrong for him, but he didn’t mind adjusting— he could hold the position for as long as he needed to. Slicking himself up, Steve wasted no time before he was pushing into Clint, sighing at how completely relaxed Clint was around him. Clint was still shaky and his breathing uneven, but his body was open and exhausted, completely at Steve’s mercy.

Anywhere Steve tried to grip, his hands slipped, too sweaty to really keep hold, but it didn’t bother Steve and he soon set a quick pace, fucking Clint and chasing his own orgasm. He hadn’t been quite as pent up as Clint but he still needed that relief, and soon enough Steve felt himself close to the edge. Pumping his hips two more times, Steve stilled and exhaled a long breath.

He stayed there for several moments, gathering himself back together, and feeling himself grow soft until he could slip out of Clint— a trail of white following. Steve grabbed one of the towels he hadn’t used and cleaned Clint up hastily— there wasn’t much point until he could get them to a place where he could clean him properly.

Dropping the towel for later, Steve hauled Clint up and backwards, grinning at the disgruntled sound Clint made at being moved.

Steve dropped a kiss on his shoulders, knowing Clint was frowning even though he couldn’t see it, saying, “Don’t be such a grouch. Your face will stick like that.”

Sure enough, when Steve turned Clint over and picked him up, there was a slight crease between Clint’s eyebrows. His eyes were closed now, and his face was slack. His breathing was much more manageable now that his body was beginning to recover from being pushed for so long.

Clint was limp in his arms as Steve carried him to their bedroom and through to the bathroom. Steve wondered how much water they’d used for baths over the course of their relationship, and smiled to himself as he thought about how much more they were likely to use in the future.

Clint remained completely out of it until Steve had him cleaned, dried, and tucked into bed, cuddling with him under the comforter. Steve was thrilled that even when he was exhausted and half-passed out, Clint still let Steve give him liquids— the trust in that simple exchange always made Steve’s breath catch.

“Steve…” Clint mumbled, eyes still closed as he sought Steve out with his nose, looking adorable.

“I’m right here. What do you need?”

Clint sighed happily and flopped his face against Steve’s chest. He slurred out, “You.”

Steve pulled him in and kissed the top of his head. “You’ve always got me.”

A familiar and comfortable silence filled the room as they both breathed deeply. Steve thought Clint might have fallen asleep by the time he spoke up quietly, saying, “I really like it when you fuck me like that.”

It was blunt and dirty and perfect. The most Clint-way to start a conversation— a continuation of whatever train of thought Clint stumbled onto.

“I really like it when I fuck you like that too.” Steve told him seriously.

“When ‘m all loose like that, and you just take what you want…” Clint trailed off. “It’s nice. Thanks.”

“I’m pretty sure I should be the one thanking you.”

Steve could feel Clint’s smile. “We can both be thankful.”

Steve smiled in return. “We can. We are. Hey, guess what?”

Clint made an inquisitive noise.

“I love you.”

That made Clint huff a laugh, the warm air tickling Steve’s chest.

“Love you too. Now let me sleep.”

Steve kissed him again. “Anything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! :D


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